Curse of the Star Forge
by Darth Yuthura
Summary: After retaking the Star Forge, a Gray Revan struggles to bring order to the Galaxy. As he must rely more heavily on its immense power, Revan becomes desperate to avoid its corruptive nature. This starts with an original ending to KOTOR.
1. Return to Grace

I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters. All rights reserved.

This story follows an original storyline where Revan doesn't get seduced by the dark side, but retakes the Star Forge. Rather he regains some of his memories from being the Dark Lord, so he knows that he needs the Star Forge, but he doesn't know about the threat lurking beyond the Outer Rim. After retaking the Forge, he discovers that all his efforts from before Malak's betrayal have been ruined.

In this version, none of the major characters have been killed off. Revan went into the temple alone and he returns with Bastila to retake the Star Forge. This is intended to be like a DS ending transition to KOTOR II. Comments or criticisms are most appreciated. I've already taken one's into account and hope I improved on it.

* * *

**Return to Grace**

Malak fell to the deck with a hole in his chest as the rightful Lord of the Sith withdrew his lightsaber. Although Malak had been brought to his knees, he still was almost at eye level with his former master. His labored breathing echoed through his vocabulator, broken by the intermittent coughing. He almost couldn't believe what had happened. "No, this is not possible. I am the Dark Lord of the Sith. I had surpassed you in every way."

The once befallen Lord Revan shook his head, slightly smirking as he watched the one who ruined everything fall before him. "It was not curiosity that killed the Kath hound, Malak, it was greed. In your lust for power, you wrongfully took something that did not belong to you, but now it is back in the right hands."

Over another cough, Malak leaned his head forward and nodded. "I suppose that you are right. I had spent my entire life thinking I was second to no one, no one except you. Even when I thought I had killed you, I always had this feeling on the back of my mind... that I had not truly surpassed you." He coughed again, blood steaming out from under the voice box. "I thought that if I had the power of the Star Forge, I could rule the galaxy just as well. The destiny was yours, not mine."

Revan stepped back and gestured all around. "This? Do you think that I really wanted this?!" In great rage, Revan grabbed Malak and lifted him almost back to his feet. "You stupid fool! You don't realize what you've done!"

Upon being tossed back to the floor, Malak struggled to raise his head. "Yes, I was a fool to try and challenge you. But you've clearly proven your superiority. Even with the Star Forge, I could not best you. You are the one who deserves... who deserves to be the Dark Lord." He coughed again and removed his jaw piece as if it were obstructing his breathing. "When we fought in the Mandalorian wars, I thought we were equals, but it was always you who lead the way. I only followed in your wake. You are the Dark Lord, not me. This is the fate I deserve."

Revan kneeled before his fallen enemy. "No, Malak. There will be no escape for you. I assure you that you will live for a very, very long time."

Malak's eyes widened with fear when he realized what his former master was about to do. Revan turned towards one of the undamaged alcoves which suspended the body of a dead Jedi knight and he deactivated it. As the body fell to the deck, he silently paid his respects to the dead.

When he heard Malak struggling behind him, Revan turned about to find him stretching out for his lightsaber. Just centimeters from his reach, Revan raised his hand and tossed the lightsaber away with the Force. "You will receive no mercy, for you deserve none. I won't give you the satisfaction of death until everything you've destroyed has been restored." Revan extended his arm towards Malak.

Malak, weak as he was, struggled with what little strength he had left, but couldn't break away from Revan's Force grip. As he was lifted into the air, he knew fear. Less than an hour ago, he had been so sure the galaxy was his to command. He never so much as considered that he might have been defeated, let alone condemned to the terrible existence between life and death.

Revan spoke his last words to Malak, maybe taking a perverted pleasure in tormenting such a vile creature. For everything he had done, it seemed a fitting place for him. And Revan wanted to force Malak to acknowledge his failure. "Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I achieve victory. Through victory, my chains are broken." Revan stepped aside so that he could throw his defeated opponent into the hungry jaws of the Forge. "Let's see if it's true."

About ten meters away, Malak had been violently thrown into the alcove. Slamming into the wall, the device activated and brilliant streams of energy channeled through his battered body. Although the energy shorted out his vocabulator, his convulsive shaking and violent twitching almost seemed to echo with the same intensity as the loudest scream. The pain of having his life energy extracted was especially excruciating because he had been alive to feel the Star Forge's corruption of his body.

Revan watched with some satisfaction as Malak writhed in agony. After what he had done to Bastila, it felt good to watch that monster endure a similar fate. Revan didn't believe himself a sadist like Malak, but he felt that pain and death were appropriate when properly administered. Unlike the Jedi, who discouraged violence and execution, Revan believed they were tools best used to punish the guilty. He knew that for what happened to Malak, the damage he caused could not be undone. Yet there was the satisfaction in watching a war criminal suffer for his crimes.

It took nearly a minute for the body to stop twitching, but eventually all signs of life had faded. Revan tried to smile, but it was the smile of desolation. All that went through his mind was of sadness over the tragedy and the waste from it all. He knew that for all the misery of which Malak inflicted upon the galaxy, he couldn't help feeling responsible for it all. Perhaps if he had not lost focus of the moment before Malak betrayed him...

Then he shook his head; it didn't matter anymore. Malak had betrayed him and all his plans for bringing stability to the Republic were compromised. Still it was difficult to accept the reality that so much effort and planning and preparation had been destroyed by one person who stepped out of line. But at least Malak had been eliminated and the Star Forge was back in the right hands. Yet Revan did not cherish reclaiming such a powerful asset, as he knew the price that came with it.

In the corner of his eye, Revan saw the explosion of a Republic capital ship as the Sith fleet closed off their escape. As the Sith armada bombarded the helpless Republic fleet, Revan saw that their lines had crumbled and all remaining ships were fleeing the battle. Considering that the Sith fleet had effectively repelled their attack, Revan saw no need for those lives to be lost if he could save them.

He had rushed to the observation deck, where Bastila had been using her battle meditation to augment the Sith fleet, and she stood up from her meditative stance to praise him. "I felt it! I knew you would succeed, my love!" She embraced Revan and shared a very passionate kiss. "You were always the Dark Lord, not him." She kissed him again very forcefully, but more briefly. "After today, you will be truly invincible. No one will ever question your authority again." And kissed him again. "You will rule the galaxy."

The distracted Revan gently pushed her aside and proceeded to the holographic projector in the center of the room.

Bastila seemed very confused that he was not overjoyed at what he had just accomplished. She didn't need a Force bond to realize he was troubled. "What is it, my love? Victory is assured. The cowards are fleeing. Does that not please you?"

Revan didn't turn around as he made his way for a console near the edge of the display. "No, everything worked out for the best. There is just one more thing that I have to do." When he logged on to the computer system, he accessed the communications system.

Bastila then smiled and nodded when she believed she figured out what was wrong. "I see, you need to spread word of your victory? Not everyone will be convinced; but when they see Malak's broken body, they will know who was always the strongest."

Revan raised his head slightly, not quite enough to look Bastila in the face, but as if to silently say 'not quite.' He turned his gaze onto the console and opened a channel to all the Sith ships. "This is Darth Revan. As of now, I have retaken the title of Dark Lord of which my usurping apprentice had stolen from me. I am now in command of the fleet." He looked back to Bastila and then to the holographic display in front of them. "All Sith vessels are to cease fire immediately and allow all surviving Republic ships to escape."

Bastila couldn't believe what she had heard and questioned his authority over the comm channel. "What are you doing?! They are..."

Revan raised his arm to shush her. "Those ships are filled with frightened and demoralized troops. They will return to the Republic and spread word of what happened here today. This is a direct order to cease fire and allow the Republic fleet to retreat. If any Republic ship does not cease fire within the next 20 seconds, then you are authorized to fire. Anyone who disobeys my orders will suffer the consequences. Any Republic ship receiving this ultimatum are advised to cease fire immediately. You will receive no mercy if you continue hostilities and you will have no hope of escape if you don't comply. You have 20 seconds to stand down." He closed the communication channel and looked to Bastila. "If you have a problem, you address it in private. Don't ever question my orders like that again."

She didn't appear frightened so much as concerned for him and bowed her head. "Yes. It will never happen again."

He turned his gaze upon the holographic projector and saw that the majority of the ships were following his orders, but at least three Sith ships haven't cease firing. He accessed the control panel and eagerly sought to identify those ships and override their captain's orders. While Revan attempted to take control of the battle, he addressed Bastila's outrage. "Now then, what is your concern?"

She stepped beside the control panel and placed her hands on her hips. "What was that about?"

"You heard exactly what I said. Letting them escape gives us a strategic advantage."

"You know very well that you cannot lie to me. It does not matter whether they are afraid of you or not. With the Star Forge, you can dominate any enemy with impunity... and you still show mercy to people who defy you? What does sparing them get you?"

He looked her directly in the eye. "That's what separates me from Malak. Sparing them represents more than you realize." Without another word, he made his way back to the observation deck to seek solitude. Bastila had changed much since being subjected to Malak's brutality and it troubled him. Before reaching the door, he twisted his head around to look back.

Bastila had assumed he was looking back to check the status of the battle over the holo projector, so she told him the situation. "The Republic ships have ceased fire and are fleeing. Our ships are taking positions alongside them... in case they have something else in mind. If they are foolish enough to try attacking us again... they will die before they even realize they made a mistake."

Revan actually was more concerned for her than the status of the battle. Bastila had changed so much from the woman he used to know. She didn't quite turn against him as Malak had intended, but she had become just as hostile and nasty as any Sith. She was just confused. After weeks of enduring some of the most brutal torture imaginable, she had become so full of anger and hate. That wasn't who she was.

It was then when Revan thought back to that moment when his world had turned upside down. Ever since he learned of his true identity, he could never quite come to terms with the truth. It just didn't seem possible that he could ever become like the Dark Lord, yet that's exactly what happened. That new identity the Jedi Council programed him with... it was a lie. Revan was his true self, yet most of that life was gone. He had hoped retaking the Star Forge would give him some peace, but being reunited with such a terrible thing only intensified his anxiety.

The Star Forge was perhapse the most powerful weapon in the galaxy, but it was dangerous to wield. As Revan walked upon its command deck again, he glared at his fallen apprentice as the Star Forge corrupted his body. Just the sight of him filled Revan with a terrible rage. All that he knew was that he had a plan for the Star Forge which wouldn't involve becoming corrupted by its power, but Malak's greed and stupidity ruined everything.

He closed his eyes and turned away, desperate to keep his anger in check. The Star Forge intensified such feelings and Revan didn't want to give in to such temptation. Every single thought and feeling that went through his head just seemed like the difference between control and chaos, but suppressing them only seemed to make it worse.

When it became too much, he started bashing his fists against the door. It was painful, but it felt better than holding it in. When his knuckles began bleeding, he realized that it really didn't matter. Whatever havoc Malak had caused, it was still Revan's responsibility to wield the Star Forge until the true threat had been neutralized... only he still didn't know who they were.


	2. Impact

Here's chapter two. I've decided that I want to try something a bit different from previous works. Three years after retaking the Star Forge, Revan struggles to maintain the Republic. The situation had gotten so bad that the High Council have begun to oppose him directly. As rebellion begins to rise within the Republic, he is desperate to restore order.

Chapter three will go back to the days following Malak's defeat and then chapter four will continue along this story line. I hope that this will add some suspense and give some more dimension to the characters as you see them change three years later. Feedback/suggestions are appreciated.

* * *

Impact

As Revan brought his lightsaber down upon Master Vrook's, the old Jedi leaped away, avoiding a battle of strength with a superior foe. Upon landing on his back, Vrook threw his lightsaber where he expected Revan to be. When an opponent was on his back, that was normally the time for the other to strike. Revan however wasn't the same kind of fighter as his former apprentice and hadn't advanced upon his retreating opponent.

As the green blade followed its course, Revan swung his lightsaber and diced through the hilt. The blade of energy died and the hilt segments clattered upon the floor, still glowing red. Both their eyes had been fixed on those segments until they were perfectly still. Knowing that Vrook would not surrender, even while unarmed, Revan just faced his opponent.

Vrook stared at Revan with the same scornful frown that he'd always displayed, even when he was still only a student.

Revan slightly shook his head, wondering why Vrook wasn't fraught with embarrassment over making such an elementary mistake in combat. Considering that it was more Vrook's mistake than Revan's skill, the old man shouldn't have had that look about him. "Never throw your lightsaber in the direction of an anticipating opponent. Good advice. A pity you didn't decide to follow it."

Vrook scoffed. "Do you think I need a lightsaber to defend myself against you?"

Revan just spoke factually and without emotion. "No, but you're at a greater disadvantage because of it."

"You'd find I'm difficult to kill."

"Probably." Revan extended his arm and lightsaber towards Vrook, but hesitated to advance. Vrook had always seemed like the model Jedi of whom Revan greatly respected. It wasn't though superior physical strength or higher Mitochlorian levels that he became a master, but through hard work and dedication. A part of Revan greatly regretted being the one to kill Vrook, but no one else was capable enough. "It didn't have to be this way."

"What else did you expect? You're the one holding the Star Forge. You're the one who brought that scourge on the Galaxy! Your unquenchable lust for power is what lead to this; don't blame me!"

Revan glared at Vrook. Even then, he seemed more interested in casting blame than taking responsibility for his past mistakes. "I saved the Republic! First from the Mandalorians, then from Malak's tyranny. I will not let everything I've accomplished be torn down by you... or by any in the Council."

When Revan slowly advanced upon the older Jedi, Vrook defiantly shouted back. "Then go ahead and take your best shot! You'll never win!"

Revan raised his lightsaber at Vrook, holding it steady. "Never win? I've already done what I set out for. All you seek is to unravel everything I've done to secure us all from the true threat lurking on the Outer Rim."

Vrook raised his fist and shook it at Revan in protest. "The only threat out there is you! Even if I die here, others will come after you. The Galaxy won't stomach your evil forever!"

Revan lowered his lightsaber and sighed with frustration. "Evil? I'm not malevolent. I simply am, which soon will be more than I can say for you!"

Revan took a broad swing with his lightsaber, Vrook narrowly dodging the blade of energy. Leaping back only to hit a wall, the Jedi Master took hold of the floor with the Force and it crumbled beneath Revan's feet. An instant before losing his footing, Revan jumped back and threw his lightsaber in midair before hitting the floor. Using his own momentum to return to his feet, Revan rolled on his back, absorbing the impact, all while maintaining his hold on the lightsaber. With the Force, Revan guided his weapon back to his hand.

Although it scarred the wall that was behind him, Vrook apparently dodged another death blow. The destruction of the floor had created a cloud of dust of which obscured his field of view, but Revan knew Vrook was still alive.

He began to feel intense vibrations in the room and noticed that the pillars were being pulled out of position. The individual segments were wedged so tightly that they began to fracture under the enormous stress exerted on them through the Force. Revan attempted to keep the pillars in tact, but as two monstrous forces acted in opposite directions, the segments only fractured further and eventually shattered.

Both Jedi were masters of levitation, but even Revan couldn't keep the pillars in place if they crumbled. The shattered fragments fit like puzzle pieces, which was how they were kept together in spite of Vrook's attempts to bring down the entire roof. Under pressure from two opposing forces, the pillar fragments ground down into increasingly finer pieces. The only reason the pillars could hold up the ceiling at that point was because they were packed so tightly with the Force. It was only when Vrook let go that Revan overcompensated, leading to a total collapse.

When the pillars crumbled into pebble-sized regolith, Revan desperately turned his concentration onto holding the ceiling in place. The sheer mass of the floors above them were so great that it took all of Revan's concentration to hold everything in place. He nearly lost his focus when Vrook sprinted across the chamber to make his escape. Revan kept his focus on the ceiling and chose not to follow. Instead, he made his escape through an alternate corridor.

After clearing the chamber, Revan allowed the ceiling to come down on itself. The sound of the debris crashing down was deafening. He felt as a gush of air rushed through the hallway. Rather than avoiding it, Revan stood in the path of the dust cloud as it saturated the air. Even as debris filled the hallway only 10 meters behind him, Revan did not see the need to rush out of the way.

It wasn't until the noise died down that he finally took a breath. Choking on dust and in total darkness, Revan turned and slowly made his way outside. Anyone else in his place might have been fraught with panic, but Revan barely noticed. All that occupied his mind was how close he came to death only a moment ago. It was quite unpleasant to brush with death, but it was even more so to survive only because an opponent made a mistake.

Revan thought of that moment when Vrook had escaped while he was holding up the ceiling. Vrook would have been willing to sacrifice everything to kill him, but Revan wasn't willing to gamble as much. Vrook had intended to collapse the building with Revan still inside, but he made the mistake of saving himself. Revan had anticipated Vrook would block the entrance to that chamber, but he should have ensured that they both perished. If Vrook had known what would happen, he would have sacrificed himself to break Revan's concentration during that critical moment.

Although he made it outside, Revan had yet to clear the dust cloud that hovered over the terrain like a mist. It almost looked inviting, but a cloud of dust was quite the opposite of a true mist. It was not cool, but very hot. There was no moisture, but the dust particles clung to his skin and sapped all the water from his body. When he had finally cleared the cloud, Revan threw himself against the side of a nearby building and steadily caught his breath.

With his eyes closed, Revan reached to his belt and grabbed his com link device. "Valdore... I'm done here."

In his left hand, after laying it to the ground, the speaker on the device activated with a female voice on the other end. "Tracking your position..."

Revan raised his arm and spoke into the microphone. "Just follow the plume of smoke."

"The what?" She asked.

Revan chuckled, choking to speak. "You'll know where to find me." Then he just dropped the device on the ground and leaned his head against the wall behind him. It didn't matter to him that Vrook escaped; it just felt good to lay down. He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

*****

Revan opened his eyes when he heard the distant roar of engines. He made his way for an old landing platform and timed his walk almost perfectly so that he would be there as the ship landed. As the ship hovered at 10 meters, Revan twisted his head over his shoulder and wondered whether he were making a mistake in abandoning Vrook.

But something else caught his attention. They were in an urban landscape, but there were no inhabitants anywhere. It just seemed like a waste. 10% of Fondor's population lived in slums, yet they could still just abandon huge sections of a city rather than find some other use for them. The buildings in the area were a bit old, but it just seemed a waste not to convert them to homeless shelters.

Of course, maintaining the landing platform was just one of the many upkeep costs which made that section of the city too expensive to maintain. It was an unfortunate reality, but there were so many cities within the Republic that took more to maintain than they gave back. In other words, it made more economic sense to just abandon that section of the city than what its inhabitants could possibly return.

Revan's ship wasn't the Ebon Hawk, but a much larger vessel built to support all the resources a supreme commander needed to operate a Star Empire. Created by the Star Forge, it possessed superior tactical and defensive systems for a vessel its size. It was no Leviathan, but it was Revan's pride and joy. Valdore was the name he gave it.

Unlike his predecessor, who favored brute strength, overwhelming size, and lout; Revan favored finesse, subtlety, and tactfulness when designing his flagship. Valdore was one of the few things that Revan knowingly put form above function, as a battle cruiser really would have been the most appropriate ship for a supreme commander. Revan didn't want a fortress, but a ship that he trusted to handle almost any situation.

When the aft loading ramp had been lowered, Revan was greeted by members of Valdore's security force. Officially they were Revan's bodyguards, but their primary function was for special combat operations under Revan's direct command. As fully trained veterans of the Mandalorian War, they followed the proper military traditions and filed out to take their ceremonial formations. Revan just proceeded up the ramp, not too concerned with tradition.

Without saying any words, he proceeded to the elevator and went directly to the bridge. Revan was a creature of habit when it came to the Valdore. Rather than simply calling up to the bridge, he always would take his seat in the captain's chair before addressing his navigator of their next destination.

When the elevator doors slid open, the person sitting in his chair stood up and gestured to it. "I kept it warm for you, Skip."

Revan nodded and took his seat. "Ms. Anastasia, I'd like my best pilot at the helm."

She smiled and did as she was instructed. "Course, sir?"

"Take us back to orbit. Once we're ready, set course for Anoat."

Anastasia was used to getting orders without any other dialog by that time, but she did it with a smile and a bit of small talk. Unlike the Ebon Hawk's pilot, Carth Onasi, who had over 20 years of experience, Anastasia was only 20 when she was selected to pilot the Valdore. Fresh out of the academy, she was first in her class. That was about all they had in common.

Anastasia saluted sarcastically to Revan with a smirk on her face and jumped into her seat, rotating it into the forward position. "Sir, yes sir. Very good, sir. Your orders shall be obeyed, sir."

Revan glanced at the empty chair where his chief engineer should have been before standing up and planting himself behind Anastasia's chair. "So where did Kothol run off to?"

She made some gesture with her hand that really didn't mean anything. "Oh you know him. If he thinks something's wrong, he's personally got to check for himself before he'll accept that there's nothing to fix."

"Yeah, this ship's probably an engineer's worst nightmare." He turned about and tapped on a control panel to activate the holographic projector at the back of the bridge. "Speaking of which, I hope it's not the communications system he's dissecting right now. I need to check in with General Kaine."

Anastasia turned about. "Sir, might I suggest a shower and maybe a clean uniform?"

Revan was wearing black body armour, covered with dust and soaked with sweat. He knew that his hygiene needed some improvement, but he was more concerned about the status of a battle waging on the other side of the planet. "Maybe later. I need to know if what he told me was true." What Revan was referring to was what a plan Master Vrook told him about before their fight escalated to lightsabers. A few seconds after activating the comm system, a small holographic image of General Kaine appeared on the console in front of him. "General Kaine, I hope that you've had better luck than I did."

"I'm afraid not. We've encountered more resistance than we predicted; we've already suffered heavy losses." He answered with great tension in his voice.

"I need you to send a reserve legion to take the city of Jaston. That's the most likely place Vrook would have gone if he wants to get off world. I want them to occupy the city, but try to maintain the peace."

Kaine lowered his head and brushed his hand through his hair. "Sir, all my reserve troops are already engaged elsewhere. If you need them, I can pull the 6th legion from Danuta and they can move on Jaston by tomorrow if you like."

Revan sighed and clenched his fist against the control panel. By then, he didn't care about hiding his frustration. "Don't pull them off their station. Vrook will be off world before the end of the day."

"If you'd like, we can bomb the space port from orbit. He won't be able to escape unless he goes to..."

"Forget it! That would kill thousands... and Vrook may not even be...!" Revan looked as though he were about to smash the holo projector, but then turned around and clenched the back of his neck with both hands. It was a way in which he could bleed off anger without making it too overt. Although Kaine wasn't familiar with it, those on the bridge knew exactly what it meant. When he realized everyone's eyes were on him, Revan looked each of them in the eye. From his look, each of them turned back to their stations. It was because they were afraid of him that they stared, and it was out of fear that they turned back to their consoles.

Revan took a deep breath and then held his hands behind his back before returning to his focus on General Kaine. "Look, just follow the battle plan I prepared for you and do your best to minimize civilian casualties. Remember that our enemies are the rebels and the last thing I want is for this operation to give more momentum to their cause."

"Sir, I'm trying to follow your plans, but we're taking greater losses than I anticipated. We'll do our best, but I don't believe we can occupy the entire planet with only 15 legions."

"That's all we can spare at the moment. Just do your best with what you've got. I'll get reinforcements to you... somehow."

"Try to make it soon, sir. I really believe that it should be you directing this operation. I don't know whether I'm making progress or not."

"I can't be in three places at once. I need you to manage this operation because I'll be engaged elsewhere."

"I understand, sir. I'll do my best." Kaine saluted. Revan just deactivated the comm system and allowed his head to sag over the panel.

After losing Master Vrook and hearing Kaine's status report, Revan didn't know what to do about the situation. During the Mandalorian Wars, it just seemed so much easier to direct events. The odds were against them, yet he managed to turn the tide of battle and saved the Republic. He just wasn't used to suffering defeats on such a scale over the last year.

When the engines were prepped, Anastasia proceeded with the lift off. "We're ready to take off, sir. Engaging vertical thrusters."

Normally Revan would have stayed up until they made the jump to hyperspace, but he was very upset and felt it was best to retreat to his quarters. "Ms. Anastasia, you have the bridge."

----

Revan sighed heavily and went into deep thought. He wondered why it was so difficult to keep the Republic together when he had supreme authority and the Star Forge on his side. Even with the limited production capacity he used, the Star Forge was more than enough to overtake the Republic at the peak of the Sith War. The Republic was another matter however...

It had been his goal from the start to bring the Republic military to its knees, leaving production centers and political powers in tact. Only then would the Republic have been bold enough to overtake the Sith and emerge stronger than before. Malak ruined everything with his stupidity and sheer brutality. The destruction of Taris was little more than a ruthless and brutal projection of unlimited power against a single target, but it had since become one of the political forces against the Star Forge.

Most believed that the Forge drew its power from the Lehon star, but there was more to it than that. The Forge drew both matter and energy from the star, but the process of converting solar plasma into durasteel dragons depended on a fusion of technology and dark Force energy. Although the Forge's operating capacity was greater than that of the entire Republic, it demanded more than the Lehon star could provide. The Forge was like a parasite on its star to such a degree that it couldn't sustain production without disrupting the fusion process. As its overwhelming production capacity exceeded what the star could provide, the Forge adapted into tapping the vastness of the Force. It was that immense power which toppled the once-mighty Infinite Empire.

Revan knew it would destroy the Republic if it were used in the same manner as the Rakatan, 30,000 years past. Desperate to avoid the same fate, Revan had since been determined to exhaust all other options to accomplish his goals, turning to the Forge only as a last resort. Of course it put enormous strain upon him, as he constantly stretched the Republic's resources as far as possible to prepare it for the coming battle.

Revan thought that he had accomplished exactly what he sought when he retook the Star Forge, but he soon came to realize how fragile the Republic truly was. As the Republic war machine became increasingly complex, he had to devote tasks to others that he would have done by himself. As managing the Republic became increasingly out of his control, Revan had come to expect failure.


	3. Trepidation

I apologize for the rather long delay. I simply have been very busy with other matters. I've been sitting on the first part of this chapter for a long while, but just haven't been quite satisfied with the way I described Revan's condition as he looks at himself after five years in the jaws of the Star Forge. I wanted to give readers the impression of a guy who's under terrible stress. Unlike the 'Godlike Revan' you get from TSL, I wanted to make this character much more human than Jedi. All things considered, this is a person setting out to fix the galaxy. I wouldn't expect anyone to be able to handle all that responsibility without being mentally fatigued.

In addition, I've gone through this chapter and have noticed some sloppy wording. I've been working on that, but found it's very difficult to keep a nice flow while still including all the little details. This isn't what I would call my best work, but I'll be going through to try and improve on what I've already done. Any criticisms are appreciated along with any compliments. I also tend to update faster when I get more reviews. Thanks to those who do.

* * *

Trepidation

Revan retreated to his personal quarters and began peeling off his body armour. Jedi robes were severely inadequate for battle, which was why he chose something more durable. He unzipped the black vest from the side and took a deep breath without the pressure of armour plates pressing against his chest. He leaned foreword and allowed the weight of the vest, so drenched in sweat, to slip over his head. After pulling his left arm through the shoulder, he took it by the collar in his right hand and flexed his limbs to alleviate the claustrophobic feel of armour.

The exposure of his sweat-soaked undershirt against the air quickly turned from a relatively warm to an uncomfortable cold sensation. Armour tended to insulate its wearer from extreme heat, but exposure to air was like a flash drop in temperature. After tossing the vest aside, Revan reached over his back and pulled the shirt over his head. Trying to minimize its contact with the skin, he carefully peeled it away. It surprised him just how much water he lost in just a few short hours. Getting it over his head, Revan slid his second arm through the sleeve and caught sight of a fresh lesion that had developed on his shoulder.

He examined the rotting flesh more thoroughly and knew immediately that it had started. It had been more than a month since he was near the Star Forge, but its power had taken a heavy toll on his body... and it was only getting worse. Revan stepped in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection, realizing that the corruption to his body by the Forge's power was only getting worse. Spending more time with the Forge over the last year than would have been prudent, its corruption had taxed his body to the most extreme levels. Lesions were normal for anyone operating the Star Forge, but they usually healed within a few days of escaping its hungry jaws. In recent months, he started to measure his recovery time by weeks.

He tried to deny it, but the corruption to his body was only going to worsen unless something drastically changed. He looked at the side of his neck and saw what looked like more rotting flesh. Although his face had been encrusted with dirt, he hoped rinsing it away would improve the appearance of his skin. Removing the filth with a damp cloth only revealed a more pale and sickly appearance than before. Looking at himself in the mirror, Revan felt as though he knew the face staring back at him. It was the face of the Dark Lord he vowed never to become.

Possessing the Star Forge wasn't the prize that many thought it to be. At least Revan found it difficult to handle such an awesome responsibility. It had a manufacturing capacity that was virtually unlimited, yet Revan constantly struggled just to make ends meet without it. It wasn't the Forge that was the problem, but the very Republic he meant to protect. Whereas the Republic had once been a powerful industrial power until the Mandalorian Wars, it had since demanded more to maintain that it produced. His hope was that the Star Forge could make up for the deficit until the Republic had a chance to recover. Five years later, the Republic had come to depend on the Forge increasingly more. All the while, more and more systems and allies have come to oppose Revan's use of the Rakatan factory.

Only they didn't appreciate that he used the Star Forge to hold the Republic together. What frustrated Revan most was that he could have provided for everyone, but only if every citizen would have just accepted their allotted share of the Republic's resources. It was those who believed they had more rights than others who made an already inefficient system cease to function altogether. All the while, fighting the temptation to use the Star Forge, Revan constantly weighed which decisions would be least detrimental to the Republic. And he was exhausted.

Standing under a stream of warm water, it felt good to wash away the dust that encrusted his body. Just the smoothness of the water served as a comfortable counter to the course texture of sand and silt. As the tiny particles collected on the floor of the shower, he watched as the water trickled its way towards the lowest point it could find. Only when enough water pooled onto the floor could it begin flowing towards the duct, carrying the sediment with it. So much water to clear away so little sand and dirt... it reminded him a lot of the galactic mess he was in the middle of.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think. With all that weighed so heavily on his mind, his thoughts were overwhelmed by so many conflicts that he had to resolve. It was as though he could see each side of every decision that needed to be made, accepting that there was no way to satisfy everyone. Unwilling to believe that there was no practical solution that a smart man could find, he went over the same details for different sides of every debate in his mind. Unless he could find a practical solution, it was like being locked in a self-perpetuated cycle of logic. As much as he wanted to shut it out, he felt that he had become like a droid. It all just raced through his mind time and time again in the way that a droid would try to compute an impossible solution without breaking the barriers of its programing.

Before turning off the water, he had gotten in the habit of lowering the temperature to only a few degrees above freezing. The shock was meant to keep him awake, but it felt good every once in a while to go from the extreme of Tattoine to that of Anteevy. As he inhaled sharply and deeply, Revan could almost feel the life return to his body. Although it was quite uncomfortable, the rush of cold water seemed to reenergize his body and mind. After turning off the water, he took a moment to catch his breath.

He could still remember what it felt like aboard the Ebon Hawk, when the wash room was just a small compartment with less than two cubic meters in volume. Every once and a while, the heating coil would short out and the shock would send him landing on his back in the corridor. Even that time when he landed right in front of Mission, completely exposed, he and she found it amusing. As he looked across the washroom, which was almost as large as one of the Hawk's crew quarters, he realized more much different his world had become from only five years ago. The very attitude aboard the Valdore was so much more serious than the Hawk. Whereas the crew of the small freighter were a group of friends brought together by circumstance, Valdore was a military vessel operated in a military capacity. Probably most importantly was that he wasn't Revan then. All of that old life ended shortly after retaking the Forge.

It was not his intent to alienate his friends, but that was what ultimately happened. As if destroying the Star Forge wasn't their ultimate objective, surely turning it into an asset would have proven his good faith. They didn't seem to grasp the necessity of the Forge, and the last five years were proof of that. A part of him regret losing touch with them, his closest friends, yet he was still bitter at how they abandoned him when he most needed their support. With Carth becoming an admiral of the Republic fleet, Canderous having taken up the Mandalore helmet, Zalbar returning to his clan, Jolee having put his 'adventure days' behind him, and Juhani pursuing her latest dream... only Mission had nowhere else to go. She and Big Z were friends, but was soon to discover Kashyyk wasn't her place. When she declined an offer to become a member of the Valdore crew, that was when he knew the Crew of the Ebon Hawk was just a memory.

There was a time when it was just Malak threatening the Galaxy... life was so much simpler then. It didn't matter so much whether the odds were against the Republic; at least he knew who the enemy was and how to stop him. He remembered that day when he and Bastila shared their first kiss, which happened on the very day that Malak took her from him. When she had returned, Bastila was broken. She had become what she despised, yet held onto the hope that the one she loved most would come for her. It was that love which she was willing to sacrifice a galaxy to protect, and yet that was what kept them apart. Because her battle meditation and his control of the Star Forge were key to keeping the galaxy together, each conflict only seemed to keep them apart.

As his mind returned to the moment, Revan wrapped a towel around his waist and perused his wardrobe. Although he preferred function over form, he found that it was just as important to maintain a proper appearance for a diplomat. Over half the volume of his walk-in closet went into clothing he only used once or twice for a particular mission. On one side of the wardrobe were business-class suits from dozens of cultures, various uniforms from virtually every branch of the Republic military, shelves for various adornments, and almost as many boots and dress shoes... even selecting the proper garb was difficult.

He turned his attention to the other side of the compartment, where lockers stored the various suits of armour. There was a practical reason why Jedi didn't wear armour, as it restricted movement, Revan found that there were times when agility had to give way to brute force. He tended to favor light carbon fiber armour for moderate ballistic protection, but he maintained some of the most sophisticated protection imaginable.

He opened locker labeled 'B1-E,' to check whether his environmental bastian suit had been repaired. It had proven invaluable for protection against hostile environments, but required the greatest care for optimal performance. Just the slash of a vibroblade at the right place had caused the suit's bio-isolation barrier to malfunction. Checking over the suit, he found it had not only been repaired, but that it had been modified to allow the various systems to reroute power through alternate conduits in the event of such a malfunction. Each power conduit was originally strictly dedicated to a particular system, which made it vulnerable if a critical data link or power conduit was damaged. Now it was able to use the power conduit from the sound masking system and reroute it to the thermal isolation system if damaged.

It did give him some relief to find the reliability of that particular suit had been improved. One thing he disliked about complex machines was how prone they were to breaking down after taking minimal damage. Simpler was better because their performance diminished without completely breaking down.

As he closed the locker, Revan lifted his head towards the very back of the closet. There was one other suit of which he sought to bury and never look upon again. As the years passed, he became increasingly unsure that shutting out the past was the right thing to do. He swore that he would never become the Dark Lord again, yet he could feel that part of him becoming more prominent. If he hoped to maintain control, he knew it required seeing through the eyes of his enemy.

Opening the cabinet in the back, just the sight of his old armour seemed to project at him like an avenging angel. The cape and hood were hung from a mannequin, with the armour plates and gauntlets seemingly emulating the form perfectly. The only thing missing was the mask, which was near the feet. He hesitated to take it, but slowly reached for it and looked into the eyes from the front. He wasn't ready yet, so he replaced it on the head piece.

Although he had several traditional Jedi and Sith robes in his collection, Revan typically selected garb of which didn't conform to either cult. He went with black and white nylon and leather with a sleeveless, hooded vest. It was functional, traditional of Force-users, and didn't belong to either the Sith or Jedi.

The only thing missing was the lightsaber; it was clipped to the belt that he just tossed aside when he returned. Before going to get it, he went to close the cabinet and noticed another one clipped to the belt of the mannequin. He stared at that weapon for a long while, wondering if it had been there when he put the armour together, almost four years ago. He hadn't seen it since, yet it was familiar. He remembered having that saber and fighting with it, but was that memory from before the mind wipe?

He stepped back and stared at his armour... the Dark Lord's armour. Assembled, it closely resembled the Dark Lord in its entirety. With the exception of the gauntlets, it was almost as though the Dark Lord was right in front of him. Then he tilted his head forward, at himself, and realized that the Dark Lord was much closer than that. The armour in front of him was only an empty shell with no soul. It wasn't quite like looking in a mirror, but it had just as much an impact as a reflection.

That was the actual armour of the Dark Lord, perfectly arranged; but without a body inside. Whatever was left of Revan resided within his flesh, yet there was nothing on the surface to indicate what he once was. It was almost as though he were the reflection, not of the armour; but of Darth Revan. Staring at the armour, he could almost feel what would have been the Dark Lord's contempt.

He may have taken the name of the Dark Lord for himself, but Revan knew that he didn't measure up to his old self.

* * *

(Five Years earlier)

Having retaken the Star Forge and eliminating Malak, Revan had proven himself to be the strongest. The Sith respected strength, which was why they would have accepted Revan's rule as easily as Malak stole it from him. When a Sith showed weakness, it was the duty of another to kill him and take their place. In practice, it was not nearly so easy to carry out.

When Revan ordered that the Republic fleet be allowed to escape, he gave a very convincing reason as to why it would benefit the Sith; but most had their suspicions. With the power of the Star Forge on their side, it didn't really matter whether the enemy was frightened or emboldened. Slaughtering the entire Republic fleet would have invoked just as much fear as would by surviving only by the mercy of an enemy.

That wasn't the reason why he did it; the simple fact was that it would have been wasteful. The enemy wasn't the Republic; they even would have been valuable allies in the coming battle with the threat that loomed on the Outer Rim. Such a victory would have represented a tactical knockout, but wouldn't have been in the strategic interest of either side. Those were not enemy ships, but eventual allies that were spared.

Shortly after taking it back, Revan had completely shut down the Forge's production. After only completing what ships had been in the works before the Republic fleet attacked, all additional ships on the production queue were canceled. And although the Sith fleet protecting it was enormous, it could not repel an assault by the entire Republic fleet. If they had the gaul to commit such a massive force against a single target, the defenses protecting the Star Forge could be breached.

Admiral Dodonna's fleet was sizable, but it represented only about a third of what the Republic could muster without compromising the defense of other worlds. Given enough time, the other admirals would eventually come to their senses and consolidate everything they had for a final assault. And with the location of the Forge no longer a secret, it had since become dangerously exposed.

What Revan feared most wasn't that the Star Forge would be destroyed, but that it would take the majority of the Republic fleet along with it. The Republic had a chance to take it out only two days ago, had Bastila not used her battle meditation against them. If the Forge were to be destroyed, it would have been far more favorable to lose it in the same battle that ended Malak's reign than for them to engage in another blood bath.

As Revan went over everything that's changed since Malak usurped his position, he realized that the situation was more dire than he dared to contemplate. On the Star Forge's command deck, Revan went through stacks of data pads, each detailing how the war had progressed in his absence. As he feared, Malak stupidly and brutally went about beating the Republic like a charging Boma. Every time when he took a world, Revan attacked his targets with extreme precision, leaving critical production facilities intact. Malak just went about the war through extreme devastation and the application of brute force.

He had been awake for days, but it was only a matter of time before Revan yielded to fatigue. Bastila had respected his request for solitude, but knew that wasn't what he wanted. She felt it was import for him to announce his victory against Malak before all the Galaxy. The longer he waited, the less impact his announcement would have. Although he made his victory known shortly after Malak's death, many Sith were becoming restless. Some had begun to question whether Revan had truly retaken his throne, which only heightened tensions among the fleet.

She entered the chamber to find him slumped over a table, buried in paperwork. It surprised her that on the eve of his greatest triumph, Revan wouldn't so much as take a day to savor his victory. As she approached the sleeping Dark Lord, Bastila did so very quietly. Although her intent was not to disturb him, the anxious young woman soon found that he was in a deep sleep... and she was in the perfect position to kill him.

A hand near, but not quite on her lightsaber, Bastila stared at the back of his neck and the thought suddenly came into serious consideration. Considering that taking Revan's place had not so much as crossed her mind before then, to have such an opportunity as that... Then she started considering what would happen if she failed. It was possible that the Force would alert him to the threat before she could deliver it. Considering how powerful he was, there was the very real possibility that he would wake up and kill her.

But that may have been her best opportunity. He was asleep and completely unaware of her. She could just as easily kill him right there and take the Star Forge for herself. That was a moment of weakness and it was her obligation to take advantage of the situation. But as her hand hovered over the lightsaber at her belt, she couldn't bring herself to actually touching the metal. Almost as though holding it would most certainly wake him up, she just steadied her hand above it.

Maybe she just wasn't ready to commit herself to taking his place, or for being killed by him. Eventually Bastila decided it was best not to act on her impulses. That was all that brushed her mind, her instinctive desires. If she were to seriously consider killing him, he probably would have sensed it through the bond they shared. She didn't want to risk it. Instead, Bastila extended her arm to gently touch his back. It seemed among the least startling gestures she could make to wake him, yet his reaction was anything but subtle.

Having lived among the Sith for a long time, Revan instinctively expected the worst from the slightest surprise. Almost in an instant, he grabbed the person hovering over him by the neck with one hand and leveled a knife at her throat with the other. Revan had also pinned her to the table, knocking over a stack of padds. As Revan came to realize that it was Bastila who he had caught, the Dark Lord just froze.

With a hand clenching her throat, Bastila gasped for each breath. With a padd sticking into her back, she shifted herself as much as he would allow to get off the device. With the Dark Lord holding her down, she knew resistance was futile.

Revan eventually released her neck and stepped away. As she rubbed her neck and caught her breath, she leaned forward to stand. What surprised him was her expression. She displayed no humiliation, outrage, or remorse for what just happened. "You... you were going to kill me."

She shook her head, still struggling to breathe. "No."

"You were thinking of it!" he exclaimed.

She hesitated for a moment, knowing that he would sense any deception. "I will admit that I thought of it. You did appear vulnerable just now, but then I realized how foolish it would have been to think you were helpless." As they stared at one another, she stood poised to justify her motives. "It's the truth. You would find there are many who've thought it as well, just so long as they aren't stupid enough to actually try and challenge you... a lesson Malak learned all too well."

It pained Revan to hear such words escape Bastila's lips. She was so Sith-like, yet it almost seemed to compliment her old personality. It was almost as though Malak's treatment had taken the woman he loved and mutilated her in a way that was worse than death. Close to tears, he took the one he held most dearly into his arms and held onto her like she was all that mattered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for not having gotten to you sooner."

Bastila didn't seem to appreciate his feelings. "You're telling me you're sorry? It was my own damn fault. All those months, I kept the truth away from you. If you had known your true identity, you could have reclaimed your mantle long ago. All things considered, everything worked out for the best. If Malak hadn't forced me to turn to the dark side, I would never have thought to help you retake your crown."

He released her and moved an arms length away. "That's not the way I remembered it."

She knew he was referring to that incident on the top of the temple. "I was confused. After a week of endless torture, I would have believed anything he told me. When he said that I could best you, I wanted to believe it. If I could beat you, then I would've known I could kill him." She had a look of embarrassment. "Then when you said you loved me, I remembered how I never felt safer than knowing you would stop at nothing for me."

Revan held Bastila closer and rubbed the back of her head, stroking his fingers through her hair. Although no words were spoken, he knew that she secretly felt betrayed when he didn't come for her. Even as Malak tortured her to the most extreme levels of human endurance, she held onto hope... and he let her down. Then he thought of something to lighten the mood. "You remember on Taris when I won the swoop championship, and then the fight broke out afterwards?"

She smirked at him. "How can I forget? You were always so convinced that you rescued me. I told you it was the other way around, yet I couldn't exactly say why. Now do you believe me?"

He chuckled. "Hey... I may not have known my true potential then, but I was still more than capable of defending myself."

She pushed him away in a jocular manner. "Well I wasn't allowed to take that chance. If some stray blaster bolt were to hit you in the head, then it all would've been over. The only reason the fight broke out was because I was trying to draw their attention to me... and not at you. How was I supposed to know Brejek would order his goons to start shooting everywhere?"

He took hold of her and they shared a very intimate kiss. She didn't expect it, but Bastila expressed such passion in the way she clenched his lips. When they broke, he only pulled back one or two centimeters to whisper his opinion. "And that's when I rescued you."

"You're so full of yourself!" She shoved him away. "It's like you can't stand to have that over inflated ego of yours...!" When she realized that it was unwise to insult the Dark Lord to his face. "Yes. Yes, I should have known better. I did not mean to let my foolish pride..."

He took her by the chin, very gently pulling her back to look into his eyes. Whatever part of her had been twisted by Malak was simply forgotten. After so much pain and so much agony, she just needed to remember what peace felt like. "No, Bastila... you did save me. You saved me long before that. And I never did have the chance to properly thank you."

Bastila understood that he was referring to what happened when Malak tried to kill his master. It was through her actions that also created the bond they shared. She wasn't quite sure what emotions she should have been feeling, but to hear him speak such soothing words actually left her embarrassed to see him so weak. "Don't. That was... a foolish act. I showed mercy when I should have killed you. Although everything worked out for the best, I wish that I could say that I did it to gain your favor. Only recently had Malak shown me the truth, but I now know that I was weak."

He pressed his forehead against Bastila's. Revan could tell that he was having some influence on her, but knew that she wouldn't easily reject the Dark Side by just a few sweet words. He could sense that she had something else to say, but was hesitant to speak about it. "You look troubled."

She gently grabbed his wrists and pushed him away. "No, not exactly. It's just that..."

He didn't need to have a Force bond to know what the trouble was. "You're wondering why I've shut down the Star Forge."

She held her hands together in a respectful manner. "I'm certain that you have good reason for it... I'm afraid that I don't quite understand what you have planned. I guess that I would be interested in knowing what you intend to do next. Have you given any thought as to what you're going to say when you address your subjects?"

He shook his head. "There's no plan. Everything that I had in motion has since been completely destroyed. My... Darth Revan's plan has been ruined." He glanced at Bastila, but then looked away. It was as if he didn't want to make his feelings known to her. "I just cannot believe how much damage a troglodyte like Malak could possibly cause. It's like he went out of his way to undermine everything I hoped to accomplish." He sighed and then twisted his head around, trying not to make his feelings too apparent. "He hurt you... and I wasn't there to stop him. And nothing I do can make up for that."

Bastila didn't seem to appreciate his feelings. As far as she was concerned, everything worked out for the best. Although she didn't exactly enjoy being subjected to Force lightning for almost an entire week, but it was not in vein. Never would she have known her true potential had Malak not forced it upon her, nor did his 'lessons' have to be so painful if she simply gave in to her anger in the first place. She could not understand why Revan was saddened by what she had gained. "Rubbish. Had you done that, I might still be a pawn to the Jedi. All those years I spent fearing the dark side... and it was nothing more than propaganda by the Council to maintain control over us. If I had discovered that for myself, then such torture wouldn't have been necessary."

Revan knew that Malak had certainly done what he intended to Bastila. She wasn't just confused; she had been brainwashed. The situation was bad. Very bad. He almost instinctively grabbed a data pad and tried to find a way to divert his attention somewhere else. "I've... I have a lot of work ahead of me. Taking back the Star Forge was only the first step. The real work has only just begun."

Bastila took the padd out of his hand and tossed it over her shoulder. "You can worry about that later. There is a more pressing matter that you must attend to." Then she took him by the collar and dragged him to his personal chamber. "We have some unfinished business to conclude."


End file.
